As is my practice, I'm reading several books at once and one, a management book, is irritating me.
"Irritating" not because it is bad. Some parts are excellent and I'm making careful notes on those but then sloppy thinking intrudes. I wonder if the editor went on vacation or if the author had a tight deadline or whatever the hell was going through his mind when he'd repeat the sort of whacked-out reasoning you might encounter at a terrible neighborhood party after everyone has drained the punch bowl.
It reminds me of the very short poem by Longfellow.